iStill Believe in Santa
by sentimental hearts
Summary: Carly, Sam and Freddie talk about when they stopped believing in the magic of Santa Claus. One shot.


**Disclaimer****:** I do not own iCarly. iCarly is owned by Nickelodeon and Schneider's Bakery. No infringement is intended with this fanfiction.

The iCarly trio made their way out of Build-A-Bra. Carly and Sam were smiling and talking excited about their purchases. It was Build-A-Bra's annual Christmas 50% Off Straps Saturday after all, it was practically required to be excited about it. Even Freddie was excited, though that was because he learned to unhook a bra left handed in 3 seconds flat, 1 with his right by discreetly playing with the display bra on a mannequin while he waited for Carly and Sam to finish trying their new creations on. He was proud of himself for that. Now, he could program a computer and unhook a bra faster than anyone else in the AV club. Score one for the Bensonator.

The group turned towards the escalators that led to the upper level food court much to Sam's delight. They broke off into three different directions. Freddie to order at Pizza Hotel, Carly at McRonald's and Sam made her way through the lines at Taco Horn, Chili My Bowl and UJUMP, the all day breakfast place, before stopping at Dairy Fairy for dessert. The table the trio settled at was designed to seat six. Now, due to Sam's meal Carly and Freddie placed their trays on their laps.

"Thanks for being considerate enough to leave us room, Sam," Freddie spat sarcastically. "It's nice to see you're so full of the Christmas spirit what with your kindness and sharing and all."

"I got your Christmas spirit right here, nub," Sam mumbled while licking chili off of her fingers. Once chili free, she extended her middle finger and smiled. Carly swatted her hand.

"Do that again and I take back your gift certificate to the Meat Shack," she warned her fiesty blonde friend.

"I promise I won't do it again," Sam replied. "Until December 26th," she added under her breath.

"What was that?" Carly asked.

"I said that I bet mall Santa's can't wait until the 26th," Sam covered, pointing to the Santa and elf. They were obviously on their break, or at least the trio hoped they were on break, as Santa was pulling out a pack of cigarettes and the elf was pulling out a flask. "That is one job I wouldn't want."

"Please," Freddie began. "you're so lazy you don't want any job. You just want to be handed money for eating bacon."

Sam smiled at the thought. "Good point, Benson. Maybe I'll ask Santa for that once he's back on the clock."

"Aren't you a little old for Santa?" Freddie asked.

"I'm sorry. What'd you say, Tick Bath?"

Freddie ignored her. "Anyway, how old were you guys when you stopped believing in Santa?"

Sam finished off her ice cream cone. "7. I gave up on the fat dude after my Quicky Bake oven broke when I tried to cook ham in it. If he was real he would have given me something capable of cooking meat. Or a wad of cash. You?"

"I was 9. I found all of my Santa gifts in my mom's closet. My mom still labels half my gifts 'love, Santa' though."

"Of course she does," Sam muttered.

"In the spirit of the holidays I will ignore that. What about you Carly?"

No answer.

"Carly? You there, kid?" Sam tried.

"Huh? Oh, yeah sorry. I was thinking. What did you say?"

"I asked how old you were when you stopped believing in Santa," Freddie repeated.

"Oh, I still do," Carly said simply.

"You mean you believe in _Spencer_ Claus, right? You don't honestly still believe that a fat dude breaks into your house to leave you presents?" Sam asked in disbelief. She wasn't used to not knowing things about her best friend.

"No, I believe in Santa Claus. Not like the fat guy part, but I believe in the magic of him," she explained to her friends.

"Why?" Sam and Freddie asked in unison. They proceeded to slap each other, their personal version of jinx.

"It sounds silly. When I was 5 my dad was overseas during Christmas and there was a chance he wouldn't be home for Christmas. That year, every time I sat on a Santa's lap I asked for them to send my dad home for Christmas and they would wink and tell me they would do what they could. Christmas morning, my dad still wasn't there so I gave up on Santa. I said they only way I would know he was real was if my dad was home and he wasn't so I knew Santa wasn't real. Then when we were opening presents my mom brought in 'Santa'. I went off on him telling him how he wasn't real because he didn't bring my dad home and I ripped off his beard. The guy dressed as Santa was my dad. That's when I knew the magic of Santa was real. Now that I'm older I know it wasn't Santa that brought him home, but I still like to pretend it was. Especially the year's when he can't make it home. Like this one."

"Wow, Carly. I'm really sorry your dad can't be home for Christmas this year," Freddie said.

"Me too, kid," Sam added as she placed her hand on her friend's. "Me and Fredalina will be here though. And if it helps any, it looks like you aren't the only one who still believes." She pointed to the North Pole display, where Santa was back from his break.

On his lap was Gibby, shirtless and holding a list a mile long while his mother snapped photos.


End file.
